


coping mechanisms

by golden_geese



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, MacDennis - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attack, Sensory Overload, bad words, bc of course he doesn't, but he doesn't realize that he and dennis are part of the problem, but that part is brief anyway you can say they're just bros if u want, but we all been knew tbh, filling in the gaps between episodes, idk if feels like cannon to me based on how mac/dennis is handled, implied kind of relationship, mac realizes the gang sucks, mac/dennis - Freeform, season 10, unhealthy relationship dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 00:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16336688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_geese/pseuds/golden_geese
Summary: one-shot. post dennis' panic attack/sensory overload in “the gang goes on family fight” season 10 episode 8. (don't worry the words aren't censored in the actual fic lol)“It felt like hours before Mac was pulling into a parking spot at their apartment building. Again, he felt a hit of rage– Frank was Dennis’ father, Dee was his twin sister, and Charlie was his best friend, and none of them gave a shit. None of them tried to help at all. Assholes, Mac thought harshly. F*&%ing selfish assholes.He turned back to Dennis, shoving the anger toward the others aside. He’d ream them later for it, he decided. Nothing he could do now. Anyway, right now he had something more important than anger to worry about.”





	coping mechanisms

**Author's Note:**

> https://golden-geese.tumblr.com/fics

Mac had seen Dennis’ shoulders change when the buzzer went off for the first time. Seen him tense up. He could have written the user’s manual on Dennis, he knew what every shred of body language meant on the guy-- knew that this meant he was coiling up tighter and tighter with every nudge. And he kept losing, because the more he lost the more he was going to lose. The buzzer kept going off and Dennis kept cringing and covering his ears and smiling that maniac smile. Leaning back and forth, his eyes shut tight-- Mac had seen it coming. How could he not? And then Dennis started to go down and Mac felt himself jolt a little, moving his hands toward Dennis, before stopping himself-- 

What do you do when the most important person in your life is sobbing and pounding on the floor of a game show set?

What do you do when the most important person in your life is red-faced and writhing? 

What do you do if everyone is watching?

Over and over again, these questions radiated throughout Mac’s world. What do you do? What do you do? What do you do?

What he ended up doing was standing, watching, feeling the thud of his pulse behind his ears-- glancing at Dee to see if she cared as much as he did, to see if she was feeling as heartbroken as Mac was--

She wasn’t, of course. A teaspoon of concern lingered behind her blue eyes, but nothing more. 

He turned toward Charlie. Charlie just looked confused and Frank was just kind of staring off to the side.

“This doesn’t represent me! This doesn’t represent me!”

The host signed off and walked away, the lights lowering. Mac took the opportunity. Shoved past Dee and, because he didn’t really know what else to do, sank down onto the floor next to Dennis.

“Hey, dude?”

“It doesn’t represent me, it went so wrong!”

“I know, bro, let’s just go home,” Mac said. Automatically, his hands moved toward Dennis-- but again he stopped himself. He knew better. Dennis was still covering his ears-- Mac knew if he touched Dennis right now, Dennis would cringe hard and tell him to get the fuck away. Knew from experience.

“They can’t air that!”

“Let’s just go home, Den, okay? Give me your keys.”

He glanced up. Producers and assistants were walking around, starting to clean up the set-- Dee and Charlie and Frank were already long gone. For a second, Mac was furious with them for just leaving Dennis like this. 

“They can’t,” he said again, quieter, still shaking hard. His eyes had that glazed over look. The vein in his forehead was out.

“Can you stand up, dude?”

Slowly, he started to. Mac did too, watching Dennis in case he started to stumble. He realized how tight his jaw was set, so he loosened it. Loosened the fists his hands had become, too.

Once they were both standing, Dennis slowly turned his face toward Mac. Their eyes met, dark brown and light blue, and Mac had to give himself a very stern silent pep talk about how he should absolutely not hug Dennis right now. Even though hugging Dennis hard enough that he was shielded from everything was the only thing Mac wanted in the entire world.

“Let’s go home,” he said again, instead.

Dennis nodded a tiny bit, turning his face back toward the floor. His stupid argyle sweater vest was crumpled, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He trailed a pace or two behind Mac as they headed to the parking lot, but Mac glanced back at him every minute or so, making sure he was still there even though he could hear Dennis’ footsteps.

They came upon Dennis’ car.

“Dennis,” Mac said.

He almost cringed. “What?”

“Can I have the keys?”

With a shaky hand, he fished them out of his pocket. Usually he would throw them to Mac, but this time he just sort of held them. Cautiously, Mac reached toward him and took them, trying not to touch Dennis’ hand because he knew the guy would hate it. 

Once he had the keys, he unlocked the car. Dennis didn’t move to get in the passenger side.

“You gonna get in, bro?”

He opened his mouth for a second, but didn’t say anything. He closed it again quickly.

“Take a deep breath and get in the car, man.”

He did it. It took him a few tries to buckle his seatbelt.

Mac stared at him for a minute, again wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. Usually when Dennis got like this he yelled and threw punches and stormed off right after, or on rare occasions sobbed and shook until he exhausted himself enough to fall asleep. Now he was just crumpled up again, face buried in his hands against the dashboard. This was a far cry from whitened knuckles and broken beer bottles and blossoming bruises.

So Mac turned the key and pulled out of the parking spot and headed out of the parking lot toward the highway. 

“You want music, dude? Would that help?” He asked after several minutes of silence. 

“No,” Dennis said, almost too quiet to hear. The anguish in his voice cracked at Mac’s ribs.

“Is there anything I can do to help you? Anything in the world?”

Dennis didn’t respond for a moment. Then; another almost unperceivable “no”.

“Let me know if there is, okay? I’ll do it. I swear.”

Dennis didn’t respond. Mac kept driving.

It felt like hours before he was pulling into a parking spot at their apartment building. Again, he felt a hit of rage-- Frank was Dennis’ father, Dee was his twin sister, and Charlie was his best friend, and none of them gave a shit. None of them tried to help at all. Assholes, Mac thought harshly. Fucking selfish assholes.

He turned back to Dennis, shoving the anger toward the others aside. He’d ream them later for it, he decided. Nothing he could do now. Anyway, right now he had something more important than anger to worry about.

“Den, you wanna sit here for a minute or go inside?” He asked.

Instead of saying anything, Dennis sloppily reached for the seatbelt and then the door handle. Mac got out too, checking to make sure Dennis’ car was locked before they headed inside. He stole glances at Dennis the whole way through the halls and staircases.

When Mac stopped to unlock their door, he watched Dennis lean against the wall out of his peripherals. His shoulders were still shaking, his eyes were still glassy and distant-- but his face wasn’t red anymore. He just looked pale now. Mac exhaled.

They went inside. Mac locked the door behind them and put Dennis’ keys in the little dish by the door. When he turned around, Dennis was just standing there, his arms crossed tightly, his head still turned toward the floor.

“You should go lay down,” Mac suggested after a beat of silence. “Bed or couch, whatever you want. But you should lay down.”

Dennis turned toward Mac and pointed his empty eyes at him. It was almost eerie-- or it would be, if Mac weren’t so worried and lovesick and heartbroken and all that bullshit.

“Wherever you’d be most comfortable,” he heard himself add for no reason.

Dennis nodded tightly and turned toward their rooms-- but then, instead of going into his own room, he went into Mac’s. Through the open door, Mac watched him sloppily kick off his shoes and lay face down on Mac’s unmade bed.

He stared for a second, then took his shoes off, then wandered into his room and laid on his back next to Dennis. Far enough away that they weren’t touching. Dennis was always bragging about his king size memory foam bed. And here he was, face-down in Mac’s cheap queen size bed.

For a minute or two, he just listened to Dennis breathe. It was coming out shaky, but at least he wasn’t sobbing anymore. He stole a glance at the back of Dennis’ head. 

Then he was bored, though, so he reached for the bible on his nightstand. Started flipping through the bookmarked passages. Re-read one or two of his favorite stories from childhood. If Job still had faith after losing everything, Mac could still have faith even though Dennis was suffering. He said a silent prayer toward that end. Said another silent prayer that he would be able to alleviate some of the suffering somehow. Prayed for peace for both of them. Prayed that he would be forgiven for the hard block of guilt in his chest that he hadn’t been able to explain lately. 

Eventually, Dennis’ breathing changed to soft snores. They felt like relief to Mac.

As quietly as he could, he got off the bed. Went to grab a clean pair of boxers and an old tee shirt. Headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

As he washed his hair, he tried to piece together what he would want if he felt like that. Beer, probably. One of their comfort movies on TV. But mostly he would just want Dennis.

He stopped the water and started drying himself off. Shook his hair a little. It always felt so good to have it loose after being gelled down all day, even though it fluffed up and looked ridiculous.

He got dressed. Pants had always been optional in the McDonald-Reynolds household-- many a movie night had passed with both of them wearing nothing but boxers, in fact. It was a relic of the times Mac had made the half hour trek to Dennis’ college frat in West Philly to watch action movies together.

Once his hair was dry and his boxers and tee shirt were on, he wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He drank the whole thing in a few gulps, standing next to the open fridge, and then cracked open another and downed it quickly too. He stopped after two, though, already sick of the taste. 

Unsure of what to do next, he ended up wandering over to the couch and sitting down to watch TV. Law and Order reruns were on, so he settled for that, keeping the volume low for Dennis’ sake.

After a while, maybe two or three hours, he heard Dennis stirring. A moment later he came out of Mac’s room and wandered into the bathroom-- and left the door open as he stripped his clothes off and got in the shower. Mac tried hard not to look. Why the hell did he leave the door open?

He stayed in there for a long time. Mac could feel the steam wafting into the living room-- Dennis always showered so damn hot.

When he eventually emerged, his skin was red and his curls were matted to his forehead. He went into his room, a towel around his waist, but again left the door open as he rifled through his dresser drawers. He came out a moment later in a long-sleeved shirt and boxers. He sat down next to Mac, avoiding his eyes.

For a few minutes, they watched Law and Order together, Mac occasionally stealing sideways glances at his roommate. He wanted to put an arm around him, to stroke his hair, to feel Dennis against him somehow. Twenty years of sporadic drunken fucks and half-asleep snuggles and stolen kisses, Mac thought, he’d taken for granted. Hadn’t truly appreciated the way Dennis felt against him. Hadn’t banked the memories for when he needed them. He should have, knowing damn well he couldn't have it whenever he wanted.

“You want a beer, dude?” He asked, breaking the silence during a commercial break.

Dennis started a little. “Okay,” he said.

Mac went to the fridge and got four bottles. He opened Dennis’ first one for him without even thinking about it, and they sipped at their drinks in silence for several minutes.

Halfway into the second, though, Dennis put a shaky hand on the remote and turned the TV off.

The room fell to silence. It must have started raining outside at some point, because Mac heard droplets against the dark windows. After a few hesitant moments, he turned to look at his best friend. Dennis was already looking at him.

“If you weren’t there, I would still be on that floor,” Dennis said plainly.

“Good thing I rode up on a white horse and saved your ass, then,” Mac responded. “Guess I’m your hero.”

Usually Dennis would shoot shit right back. But then, usually Dennis wouldn’t point out that Mac helped him in the first place.

This time, he just turned the TV back on, lowered the volume, and in one graceful motion, laid down with his head on Mac’s lap.

Before he even realized Dennis was on him, Mac’s hands were in his hair. At least this was something. 

At least Dennis needed him in this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> https://golden-geese.tumblr.com/fics


End file.
